Walk the Shadows

Hermione nodded, taking out a handkerchief to blow her nose in, while they were all quiet for a few minutes.

Then Ron said, 'So, when did you ask him to be your ward?'

The tic was gone, but the Professor still looked too still, as if he wanted to be pacing, or gesticulating wildly. 'Several weeks ago. Once we returned from the manor where we had been held, Harry needed . . . someone to help him deal with what happened. As the only witness to most of the horrors he had undergone, I volunteered. I encouraged him to talk, about that experience, or any others that weighed on him. As I learned more of what his relatives were like, as well as the kinds of things he has been through at school, I determined that he had never had anyone who looked out solely for his best interests. I told him I would do so, and he consented.'

Ron nodded tightly, then sighed. 'As long as he's all right here . . .'

'I am,' came a voice from the short hallway leading away from the sitting room. Harry followed his voice into the room, looking more pale and skinnier than Hermione had ever seen him. The scar on his forehead was red and inflamed, and he held his body tightly coiled, as if he would flee at the first sign of trouble, which was the only reason Hermione didn't jump up and hug him to death on the spot. But his eyes were bright, not fearful, and when he looked at Professor Snape, it was with gratitude and respect, something she had never seen from Harry before, for this particular man. Then he smiled over at Ron and her. 'Thanks for coming, guys.'

The Professor stood, and it was obvious in his softening expression, and in the seconds it took for him to look his ward up and down and nod briefly, that he cared for Harry, for his well-being, for his emotional state, and certainly for his health. 'You are ready to join us then?'

'Yes, sir. Thank you.'

Professor Snape waved his hand negligently, which for some reason made Harry smile again. 'Do you require my presence further?'

Harry's smile deepened. 'No, sir. S'okay. You can escape now.'

'Cheeky,' Professor Snape muttered, but there was an almost fondness in his tone, which continued as he added, 'You may invite your . . . friends to stay for dinner, if you like.'

'Thanks. I might just do.'

'Very well. I shall be in my lab.'

Harry mouthed the last three words along with him, and the Professor merely rolled his eyes at Harry before he left the room. Ron gaped at his retreating back, as if he could not figure out how Harry had gotten away with something like that with Snape of all people. But Harry returned the stare with a small smile and sank down in the chair the Professor had vacated.

'So, how're you guys doing? I, um, didn't get any mail over the summer till just the other night, so I haven't had a good chance to ask before.'

It was Hermione's turn to stare. Did Harry think they were just going to leave it at that? That they could get all this dumped on them and then just pretend it wasn't sitting there like a huge purple hippogriff in middle of the sitting room? She opened her mouth to start her inquisition, and got a sharp elbow in the side for her troubles.

Shooting a glare at Ron – how dare he? – she rubbed her side, but when he shook his head with a return glare, her brain engaged fully, and she merely said, 'Oops. Sorry.' Hadn't Professor Snape just said that what Harry wanted most of all was not to talk about his summer and the horrors he had gone through? How could she have forgotten that already? She would probably have to stop herself again in the future, she knew, from asking questions – or rely on Ron's help again – but she absolutely had to follow Harry's wishes in this.

So